News in the Night
by AliuIce0814
Summary: Obi-Wan loses another close friend during the early days of the Clone Wars. Anakin has to comfort him. Really angsty. No slash- just brotherly love. May be slightly AU.


Anakin Skywalker's Point of View

Disclaimer: I own nothing…

Dark. Quiet. As far as I can tell, it's the middle of the night, and some brain-dead slimeball is knocking on the door to our quarters.

A groan. Obi-Wan is getting the door-thank the Force. I'm not in the mood to speak with uninvited midnight visitors, especially not so soon after returning from another useless attempt to sway the Outer Rim to the Republic side of the war.

"Master Windu!" Master Obi-Wan sounds rather hassled and mildly annoyed, though he's doing a fairly good job of hiding it. "To what do I owe this-rather _late_-pleasure?" Obi-Wan's voice is calm, but the undertones are clear: _go away and leave it until morning, please!_

Score one for Master! I don't care what he says about politicians-he's definitely learned some tricks from them. I should know; I'm married to one (though Padme usually says something along the lines of: "Anakin, why is this muja fruit core here when I just wiped the counter?" or "Ani, _darling, _why are your dirty socks on the kitchen table?" Honestly, _women_…and Jedi Masters…).

I can practically hear Master Windu gnashing his teeth. "Maybe it would be best if I speak to you privately for a moment, Obi-Wan."

/Who? Me? Alone?/ I can hear Obi-Wan's fuzzy unspoken thoughts through our bond for a moment before he says quietly, /Well, Padawan, he did say _privately…_/ and blocks me out of his mind.

Oh, sithspit. I bet this is about the Outer Rim campaign. We've already been out there for months-what to they want us to do, buy a condo on Tatooine?

Not bloody likely.

I'm just about to roll over and go back to sleep when the door opens and Obi-Wan re-enters. It's a second before I realize he's stumbling, like a drunkard, staggering blindly into the 'fresher.

By the Force-he's not-

He is.

He's puking. I can hear him retching from in here.

I stumble in after him and flick on the light. There he is, kneeling on the cold linoleum and losing his lunch for all he's worth.

I reach over to him and hold the back of his head-not that there's much else that I can do, except for wiping his mouth for him (NOT BLOODY LIKELY!) or going back to bed (I'm not that heartless. He's not sick, per se, as far as I can tell…)

After another minute of retching he finally lifts his head and wipes his mouth shakily on his hand. His face is pale, almost green, and wet with-

By the Force, he's _crying_.

"Master?" I ask uncertainly. Oh Sith, now that was just beautiful. My voice squeaked-like a mouse, or a child.

"Master, what happened?'

He won't even turn his head to look at me. I swear by the Force, by the suns, by everything: if Master Windu did anything to hurt my Master, I'll hang that slimeball's intestines up to dry.

"Master!"  
Nothing. Damn, damn, damn!

Time for physical force. I reach one hand out and force his head around to face me.

He stares at me blankly for a moment. I can feel him shaking under my hand. That look-that look-

In that instant, I know exactly what he's about to do because I've seen that look before, ten years ago.

He screams. He screams like he's being stabbed through, like someone's reached in and is yanking his heart out.

As I grab his shoulders, I get the feeling that his heart has been ripped out.

Obi-Wan stops screaming, but he's groaning now, and I wrap my arms around him like he did to me when I was small and having a nightmare.

"Obi-Wan, shh. Shh. Master, what did he do to you? Tell me! Shh. Don't-don't cry. Shh."

He's shaking now. His face is buried in my shirt and his sobbing into my chest. /Master! Please! What's happened to you?/ I plead through our bond. I immediately flinch away from his mind. It's so tortured and angry and unbearably grief-stricken that I can't bear to even use our bond for long. His shields have collapsed. He hasn't been like this for ten years; not since-

Not since Master Qui-Gon died.

A memory. Being nine years old, in a refresher in the Nubian palace, shaking Obi-Wan, trying to stop him from making that awful noise, the one that sounds like a wounded animal. Not that there was much I could do. What could I do? I was just a terrified nine-year-old boy who was far, far away from his mother-

No. Don't think of her. Don't think of all the blood on her face when she-

I'm snapped out of my thoughts my Obi-Wan moaning my name. "Anakin…Anakin…"

"Shh, Obi-Wan. Don't cry. What did he do to you?"  
I wince. My voice is harsh. I calm myself down a notch and try to ask Obi-Wan again.

"What did Master Windu say to you?"  
Obi-Wan shakes his head and rubs his eyes. Force, he looks so young. He looks much younger than thirty-six. He looks like a kid who's trying to look brave after they've scraped an elbow during a fall.

/Anakin?/

/Master./ Finally, he's gained _some _semblance of control over himself. /What did Master Windu _do _to you? I swear, if he's done anything, I'll-/

/No./ Even through the bond he sounds exhausted-not that I blame him; he's just puked the contents of his stomach and screamed himself hoarse. /It's not Master Windu, it's-/

He breaks off. Damn, Obi-Wan, talk to me. I'm trying to help you here!

/It's what?_ What did he do?_/

/Shh, Anakin. It's-it's something I have to show you. Come on./

He slowly climbs to his feet. He's still wiping the tears away. /Where are we going, exactly?/

/The closet./

Oh. The closet. How descriptive can you get? How is the closet going to explain why you went crazy on me? What is this, some sort of weird suicide attempt?

/I'm not that far gone, Anakin./

/Stay out of my head, dammit!/

He doesn't reply. Instead, he reaches into the closet and pulls out…a box.

Yes, folks, that's it: a box. No knife, no HoloNews report, just a box.

This box seems to have seen better years, too. It's tattered and duct-taped at the edges. Obi-Wan pulls the lids off gently and coughs when copious amounts of dust rise from the container.

Bleah. There's dust up my nose now. What is Obi-Wan trying to do, make me sneeze?

He's pulling something out of the box now. A book-a holo-album? Sure looks like it…

Yep, it's a holo-album. Sith, if I had known that Jedi were allowed to have holos, then I would have kept a whole closet-full of ones of my m-

No. Don't think about her. Obi-Wan's flipping through the album now, all the way to the very beginning.

He stops on a page. He touches a trembling hand to the page, then hands it to me.

There's a holo of a group of kids, about four or five to about fifteen. They're all smirking or grinning cheesily, like any kids in a picture, but something seems wrong…

The background. They're all standing in a dark tunnel. Some of them have dirt on their faces like they've been digging. Most of them are holding slingshots.

The caption under the picture reads: **THE YOUNG.**

Interesting. These are definitely wartime kids, but I don't get why Obi-Wan would have a picture of them.

/See anyone you know?/ Obi-Wan asks softly through our bond.

/N-wait. That ginger-haired kid in the front row…is that-that can't be you?/

/Yes. That was me when I was thirteen years old./

Damn. He looks so young (well, the caption does say the _young…_). His arms are linked with a slender girl's arms and a tall boy's arms.

"That was Cerasi," Obi-Wan says softly as he points out the copper-haired girl. There's something in his voice…

No. Yes. No…

"You loved her."

Obi-Wan's head jerks up. He seems shocked that I could read his feelings so easily. For a moment he looks defensive, but then his face softens and he looks back at the holo.

"Yes. The way you would love a sister. She was a beautiful girl."

I sense there's more to the love than that, but I don't press the issue-that's blackmail for sometime when my Master's sanity is not in question. "What happened to her?"

"She-she died," Obi-Wan chokes out through fresh tears. Oh, sith. Is that what caused all this. No- "Not too long after this picture was taken. We'd just won the war, but sometimes things-" He breaks off, takes a shaky breath, and continues, "There was sniper fire, and I didn't move fast enough…" He breaks off again, and this time I can tell he's lost in memories because they're seeping through our bond, damn him!-

_Running. Catching her as she falls. "CERASI! Cerasi, you'll be okay!" Nearly sobbing. "Can you hear me? You don't need luck! Cerasi!" The girl, trying to speak, trying to raise her hand to touch Obi-Wan's-_

_Her eyes glaze. The hand falls. _

"_NO!"_

I pull myself back, away from the memory, away from the teenage Obi-Wan's anguished cry, because the real Obi-Wan's cried out as well, the tears streaming down his face again.

I reach out to touch Obi-Wan's shoulder when I remember myself whimpering that, trying to shake my mom awake…and then attacking those-those animals, those beasts, the things that made my mother suffer-making them suffer as I killed their babies, their wives, their homes-

/Anakin?/

I jump at the sudden contact. Obi-Wan is watching me worriedly. /Is there anything you want to talk to me about, brother?/

I smile at the concerned note in his thoughts and the endearment he used (brother or father? Which should I call him?) but shake my head no. /You still haven't told me what happened to make you like this in the first place, Master./ I point out.

Obi-Wan sighs and looks down at the holo again. /The boy on my other side-that was my brother-in-arms, Nield./

Hmm. Brother-in-arms. I can kind of tell from the picture; they both seem to have an identical cheeky smirk on their faces.

/After the war was finally over, he became the governor of Melida/Daan-that's the planet we were on- and he was re-elected every six years so that he stayed in office until now./ Obi-Wan is shaking again, but I can tell from our bond that it's from barely suppressed rage-not too unlike mine, actually. /Anakin, the Separatists took over the government of Melida/Daan. They- they tortured Nield to try to make him cede to them, but he wouldn't. He knew that the planet didn't need another war. He evacuated all the infirm and the children to the old tunnels and called for Jedi assistance. The planet is safe now, but Nield-he didn't make it. By the Force, he didn't make it…/

Oh, damn. No wonder-those Separatists-tortured-that's hard for a Jedi to survive! This Nield-oh, Force, no wonder Obi-Wan's a mess. He must've remembered all the things that we saw in the Outer Rim and all the things from that war- by the Force!

Obi-Wan has buried his face in my shirt again. Anakin Skywalker-Podracer, brilliant pilot, the "Hero with No Fear"-and the amazing human handkerchief.

Oh, well. Go ahead, Obi-Wan. Get it out now so we don't have to do a repeat of ten years ago when you bottled it all up. I don't particularly want to have to do this every night.

After a bit he lifts his head and dries his eyes again. /I'm sorry, Anakin./

/For what? Using me to blow your nose? Yeah, you'd better be sorry for that. Use your sleeve, or a handkerchief-not me. I am a Jedi, not a snotrag./

Oh, that was really nice, Anakin. Just look at him. His eyes are all wide and watery. What's that snuffling noise he's making? Tell me I haven't made him cry again-

Wait a minute. No. No way. Is he really-?

I don't believe it! He's laughing! His actually laughing! It's a watery chuckle, to be sure, but he's exercising his sense of humor!

/You, my very young Padawan, are tasteless. Completely and utterly tastless./

/Excuse me? What this? You don't have the nicest flavor, either./

He puts a hand to his head. /Anakin…/

/Yes?/

/That has to be the worst joke I've heard since I last talked to Master Yoda./

/Now that's just insulting. I'm not that bad./

/How do you think that?/

/…I use the little tiny space in my head that I call my brain. You should really try it sometime./

/Don't push it, Mister./

/I'm not five!/

/Then act your age./ He stands up and stretches. A few joints pop back into place. I bit back a remark about _his _age; it doesn't seem completely tactful right now.

Silence for a moment as I stand up (damn! My ankle popped. I'm lucky I didn't make that age joke.). "Master?"

"Yes, Padawan?" His voice is still a bit wobbly.

"Will you be okay?" Damn! Speaking of wobbly voices, that last sentence made me sound like I did ten years ago. I thought I was through that stage a long time ago!

Obi-Wan smiles sadly. "I will try, Padawan. You've definitely helped me, you know." He adds as we slip into our respective sleep-couches. "Not many Padawans would be able to handle a Master like me."

"Yeah, well, I'm special like that."  
A snort from the other sleep-couch that sounds a bit like "Special ed, maybe…"  
"Excuse me?"  
"Nothing, Padawan. Now," Obi-Wan yawns, "Try to sleep."  
"You mean, try to let you sleep."

A mumble from the other sleep-couch. "Something like that, yes. Thank you, Padawan, and good night."  
His breathing is slowing a bit. Good. Maybe he'll get to sleep. I myself am staying awake. Something about the holo is bothering me-

"Master!"

"Unh…what, Padawan?"

"Why were you on Melida/Daan without Qui-Gon? I though he was your Master!"

"That, my dear Padawan, is a story for another night…day…mmmph. Go to sleep."

I smirk. There's definitely a story there.

"Good night, Master!"  
A sigh from the aforementioned Master. "Go to sleep. No doubt they'll need us for something in the morning…"  
He's not healed yet, not nearly, but I think he'll be all right. I swear, on everything, he's teasing when he's says I'll be the death of him someday.

After all, I've just saved his skin for the millionth time…


End file.
